


love isn't something that weak people do

by scullystarling



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s08e15 DeadAlive, F/M, Pregnant Dana Scully, Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:20:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28864692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scullystarling/pseuds/scullystarling
Summary: inspired by a scene from fleabag, as well as pictures of scully looking particularly glowy.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 17
Kudos: 61





	love isn't something that weak people do

**Author's Note:**

> special thanks to stelgibson for the beta as well as her support and kindness <3

Dana Scully stared at her reflection in the mirror. The dark circles under her eyes, due to weeks of emotional and physical exhaustion, still slightly peeking through the concealer and foundation she had painstakingly applied. She sighed and reached for the tube of mascara sitting on the corner of the sink. This would be her third time reapplying, having already cried it off the first two.

The first, when she had kneeled on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor and emptied the contents of her stomach. Morning sickness making it’s usual appearance, right on schedule. Hot tears sliding down her face as her body heaved.

The second, when her mother had phoned to check on her. The soft, comforting tone of her mother’s voice, breaking down every barrier she had attempted to build upon waking that morning. She had hung up the phone in tears. Not wanting to face the day that lay ahead. Longing to just be held by her mother, reassured by her soothing voice, the way she had reassured her after experiencing heartache as a teenager. Speaking to her in soft tones and rubbing her back in slow, soothing circles, assuring her that she would be okay.

The third, only minutes ago, when she thought back to yesterday morning. Waking and examining the fish tank, only to realize that one of the mollies lay limp, floating lifelessly at surface level. She had cried and cried, and then cried again, just now, as she thought about it. Another part of him, lost. One less thing for her to hold on to. Black lines of mascara, staining her face as she inhaled a few deep breaths, trying to regain composure.

For now, she didn’t know if everything was going to be okay. Now, she stood and applied mascara for the third time on the morning of Mulder’s funeral. Hoping that she would at least be able to make it out the door without losing her carefully calculated composure again.

She pulled herself away from the small mirror above the sink and entered the bedroom. Squeezing her small, slightly swelling feet into a pair of black heels, a small grimace on her face as she did so. Reaching for the black dress laid out neatly on the bed, just where she had left it. It had always been a colour she felt quite confident in. Today, however, it symbolized grief, mourning, and loss. And the effect instead, was nausea inducing.

Still, she removed the extremely oversized Oxford sweatshirt, _his_ , that she had taken to sleeping in. Breathing him in as she pulled it off and over her head, and reluctantly picked up the dress. Once it was on, she turned to examine herself in the full-length mirror. The material stretching over her tiny bump. The longer she studied her reflection, the more she began to notice that instead of looking: exhausted, drained, defeated, all of the things that she felt so deeply. Despite it all, she was glowing.

She had never really believed the ‘pregnancy glow’ myth, believing it to be just that, a myth. Though of course, she hadn’t really been around many pregnant women. But as she stared at herself, her eyes shone an intense blue. And despite the fact that she had been crying off and on since waking, her skin was bright and luminous, her lips plump and pink, while her cheeks flushed a peachy-pink hue, illuminating her soft features. The tiny flutters of movement she had been feeling the past couple of weeks, this new glow, reminders that she was not alone.

Her eyes softened and her mouth opened slightly as she gently pressed her hand to the small swell of her abdomen and held it there. This baby, _their_ baby, tethering her to earth, reminding her that she was not alone. That she would have something more than his Oxford sweatshirt, the fish, his nameplate, and their memories. She inhaled a shaky breath. Knowing that today would be the hardest day she has ever had to endure, but now, she carried a sense of comfort with her too. Having been reminded that she had someone to keep her grounded, and that would be enough. She kept her hand on her tummy and focused on the flutters, the snow falling lightly outside her window.

**Author's Note:**

> if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading <3


End file.
